His Ordinary Life by Linda Winfree Read Free Book Online Page A

night.”
    “Did I ask?”
    “Not yet, but that’s what this is all about.”
    “This?” Del paused in his search for a salad bowl and cutting board.
    “You being here at all. Wanting to hang out with me.”
    “I always want to hang out with you.” Del kept his voice even and chose his words carefully. “Yes, I drove down because of last night, and I’m not happy about what you did. But you know I always have time for you and I’m trying to understand what’s going on, son.”
    “Nothing’s going on,” Blake mumbled. “You don’t have to stay.”
    “Your mama and I will decide that.” From the refrigerator, Del pulled a head of lettuce and a variety of vegetables. He piled his finds on the counter next to the cutting board. “You want to get the potatoes going?”
    Blake rolled his eyes, but did as asked. Del watched him, remembering the scene from the school hallway earlier that afternoon. “So how’s school going?”
    “We’ve only got two weeks left.”
    “Classes okay?”
    “I guess.”
    “Like your teachers?”
    The microwave door slammed. Blake shrugged. “They’re okay.”
    “Friends?”
    The line of Blake’s body tightened. “Yeah.”
    “Who are you hanging out with?” He did not want to hear the name Jamie Reese. Why did he just know that kid was going to end up being involved in whatever was going on with Blake?
    “You said you weren’t going to ask about last night.”
    “And I didn’t, did I?” He put aside the tomato he was chopping and laid the knife down. “Listen, Blake, whatever’s wrong, I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”
    “Nothing’s wrong.”
    And this conversation was getting them nowhere. Del picked up the knife once more and applied his frustration to a bell pepper.
    “Can I go now?”
    “Yeah.”
    Alone in the kitchen, Del rubbed a hand over his eyes. Amazing how blind one could be. He’d been convinced he was still a good, albeit absent, father. A royal screw-up was what he was. There’d been nothing real about the time he’d spent with them over the past couple of months—no talking, no sharing beyond superficial likes and dislikes. He was losing his own children.
    It wasn’t too late, though. He still had time, but it was fast running out. He could fix this.
    He tossed the peppers and tomato on top of a bed of shredded lettuce. If it wasn’t too late with his kids, did the possibility exist that he still had a chance with Barbara? In the act of peeling a red onion, his hands stilled. The urgency behind that thought scared him. He wanted it too much.
    He’d always wanted Barbara too much, more than she’d wanted him apparently.
    He sliced into the onion with savage force. How the hell did he get around the fact that she resented him for getting her pregnant in the first place? That acrimony had to have been festering inside her for years, all the time they’d been together. Obviously, nothing he’d done to make up for the choices he’d cost her seemed to matter, and all her hidden hostility had boiled over during that last argument, when he’d finally sought something for himself.
    No, he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in a Georgia July with Barbara.
    But his kids were a different matter. He clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. Hell if he’d lose them, too.
    * * *
    He’d parked in her spot. Corralling her irritation at the small annoyance, Barbara pulled the 4-Runner to the side of the driveway and shut off the engine. The lack of sleep was catching up to her. Tension lingered at the base of her neck and radiated up through her head, making her edgy and irritable. Knowing Del waited inside didn’t help, either.
    She tried convincing herself that it was merely the presence of another person after an awful night, the annoyance of having to cook for one more. Sure. It has nothing to do with the fact that it’s Del waiting in there.
    Smothering the sarcastic little voice, she pushed the door open, grabbed her tote and